I wasn’t good enough for you in high school and I’m not good enough for you now. I’m leaving. Tell Lucy sorry.” She turned and hobbled away.
“Sam!”
Ouch. Hearing the truth from Lucas hurt more than she expected. Her eyes burned, and the tears began to fall. She quickly ducked into the closest women’s bathroom and locked herself in a stall.
“Sammie? Please come out.”
After a few minutes, she heard the sound of footsteps fading into the distance, and all was quiet. Blotting her eyes with some toilet paper, she walked out to the sink area and stood before the wide mirror. How ironic. Here she was in the same situation she had been in high school. It was a different place, but the same guy and the same rejection. And it hurt more than she remembered.
Because Lucas was right.
Since the first time he rejected her, so much had happened. She had made some bad choices and done things she never thought she would sink to doing. The affair with Jacques being the worst choice of all.
She sighed. She screwed up big time and she was still facing the consequences of her actions. But she was her own worst judge; she didn’t need Lucas judging her, too.
She threw away her crumpled tissue and limped outside. At a planter near the auditorium, she sat down to call a taxi. As she began dialing, her ears perked up at the sound of voices singing in unison. Curious, she walked to the auditorium doors and poked her head into the darkened room. An older man gestured for her to follow him.
Sam sat down on a metal folding chair and looked around, surprised by the casual, yet warm, atmosphere of the place. It was certainly different from the Chinese church her family had been attending since they immigrated from Hong Kong two decades ago. People of all ethnicities and ages filled the seats around her. A young woman to her right greeted her with a smile.
The choir continued singing a medley of songs, some of which Sam remembered from her own childhood. She had never been much of a singer, but music had a way of touching her, much like art did. She inhaled and exhaled deeply as the pure voices filled the auditorium. The familiar melodies stirred up something inside her, and she felt a profound sense of peace flood her heart. What is going on? She snuck a peek around the room. Am I the only one who’s feeling this? The lyrics comforted her as well with reminders of forgiveness, acceptance, and grace. They were words she had heard and even sung before, but today they touched her more personally than before. Raising her eyes upward, she spoke her first genuine prayer in years. God, is that You?
Church was the last place she expected to feel so deeply. The only times she ever experienced such a sense of freedom was when she was painting. And the last time she had picked up a paint-brush with this kind of peace was on a different continent. She had given up on ever doing what she loved again. Channeling all her time and resources into the studio had become her last connection to art. But here she was in a place that smelled like old gym socks and feeling oddly inspired to paint again. It had to be God.
The choir finished singing and the middle-aged pastor took to the pulpit. Sam had never listened to a sermon as closely as she did that morning. One verse in particular stood out. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. She knew about sins, for sure, but not much about love. But the way the pastor explained it made so much sense. Because of sin, she had been hiding from God, but she was in fact hiding from Love itself. Love that covered over every wrong she had done and would ever do. It was almost too much for her to comprehend.
Sam didn’t realize the woman beside her was holding a tissue out until she dropped it in her lap. She quietly mumbled, “Thanks,” and dabbed at her wet cheeks. Black streaks stained the tissue, confirming the fact that her favorite mascara wasn’t as waterproof
“Sam!”
Ouch. Hearing the truth from Lucas hurt more than she expected. Her eyes burned, and the tears began to fall. She quickly ducked into the closest women’s bathroom and locked herself in a stall.
“Sammie? Please come out.”
After a few minutes, she heard the sound of footsteps fading into the distance, and all was quiet. Blotting her eyes with some toilet paper, she walked out to the sink area and stood before the wide mirror. How ironic. Here she was in the same situation she had been in high school. It was a different place, but the same guy and the same rejection. And it hurt more than she remembered.
Because Lucas was right.
Since the first time he rejected her, so much had happened. She had made some bad choices and done things she never thought she would sink to doing. The affair with Jacques being the worst choice of all.
She sighed. She screwed up big time and she was still facing the consequences of her actions. But she was her own worst judge; she didn’t need Lucas judging her, too.
She threw away her crumpled tissue and limped outside. At a planter near the auditorium, she sat down to call a taxi. As she began dialing, her ears perked up at the sound of voices singing in unison. Curious, she walked to the auditorium doors and poked her head into the darkened room. An older man gestured for her to follow him.
Sam sat down on a metal folding chair and looked around, surprised by the casual, yet warm, atmosphere of the place. It was certainly different from the Chinese church her family had been attending since they immigrated from Hong Kong two decades ago. People of all ethnicities and ages filled the seats around her. A young woman to her right greeted her with a smile.
The choir continued singing a medley of songs, some of which Sam remembered from her own childhood. She had never been much of a singer, but music had a way of touching her, much like art did. She inhaled and exhaled deeply as the pure voices filled the auditorium. The familiar melodies stirred up something inside her, and she felt a profound sense of peace flood her heart. What is going on? She snuck a peek around the room. Am I the only one who’s feeling this? The lyrics comforted her as well with reminders of forgiveness, acceptance, and grace. They were words she had heard and even sung before, but today they touched her more personally than before. Raising her eyes upward, she spoke her first genuine prayer in years. God, is that You?
Church was the last place she expected to feel so deeply. The only times she ever experienced such a sense of freedom was when she was painting. And the last time she had picked up a paint-brush with this kind of peace was on a different continent. She had given up on ever doing what she loved again. Channeling all her time and resources into the studio had become her last connection to art. But here she was in a place that smelled like old gym socks and feeling oddly inspired to paint again. It had to be God.
The choir finished singing and the middle-aged pastor took to the pulpit. Sam had never listened to a sermon as closely as she did that morning. One verse in particular stood out. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. She knew about sins, for sure, but not much about love. But the way the pastor explained it made so much sense. Because of sin, she had been hiding from God, but she was in fact hiding from Love itself. Love that covered over every wrong she had done and would ever do. It was almost too much for her to comprehend.
Sam didn’t realize the woman beside her was holding a tissue out until she dropped it in her lap. She quietly mumbled, “Thanks,” and dabbed at her wet cheeks. Black streaks stained the tissue, confirming the fact that her favorite mascara wasn’t as waterproof
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